


i'm tired of being on my own and broken

by holy1_hell1



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Like there's a lot of crying, M/M, Men Crying, both physically and emotionally, but it's fine bc eddie takes care of him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy1_hell1/pseuds/holy1_hell1
Summary: Sometimes he wishes he wasn't Evan Buckley, maybe then people would love him and stop leaving.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 302





	i'm tired of being on my own and broken

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this so suddenly like out of nowhere?? so it's a bit random and follows canon but doesn't.
> 
> i hope ya'll like it.
> 
> i tried a new style of writing and i enjoyed it so i hoe you do too.
> 
> the title is from one of my favourite songs by Clinton Kane, it's called hopeless, i would recommend listening to it, it's great.
> 
> tw: mentions/decription of blood. nothing too graphic tho.

_**BUCK DOESN'T KNOW HOW LONG HE'S BEEN SITTING HERE**_ , it definitely isn't comfortable, but he can't - won't - move. The door was no longer cold, neither was the floor, they were both warm from the heat emitting from his body.

He doesn't even remember making his way to the bathroom, he could see his own reflection from where he sits. His eyes were red and dried tears stain his cheek. He laughs bitterly at how pathetic he looks.

He could hear his phone buzzing on the table outside but he tunes it out, he doesn't want to talk to anyone. For once in his life, he wants to be left alone.

A myriad of emotions run through him, ranging from anger to relief to pain to acceptance. He should've known that Abby wouldn't come back to him, she'd ghosted him; he was just too foolish to realise until she was standing in front of him with her new fiancé, she hadn't even officially broken up with him, so he held out hope, that maybe, one day, she'd come back and they'd go back to each other. It was foolish for him to think that. 

She was happy, she had a family, she just didn't want that with Buck. 

Fresh tears make their way down his face, why wasn't he good enough?

He clenches his jaw and gets up, anger flowing through his veins.

His reflection stares back at him, red-eyed. No one stayed long enough to see him like this, except for Maddie and even then Buck can't help but wonder whether she stayed because she felt like she needed to, because she was his sister and not because she loved him. 

He's just so tired of being left behind. 

He punches the mirror, like an idiot.

He hisses in pain when he pulls his hand back, he could see pieces embedded in his knuckles and he looks up, a hundred more Bucks staring back at him. 

Sometimes he wishes he wasn't Evan Buckley, maybe then people would love him and stop leaving.

His phone rings again, and he ignores it again, choosing to run his hands under the cold water. He watches as the pinkish water flows down, swirling at the base before disappearing. 

He pulls his hand bad, examining the million little cuts on his knuckles. He flexes his hand and winces in pain as the cuts open and close, he won't be able to work for at least a week; that makes him want to punch himself, but he refrains from hitting himself (and the mirror).

Fuck.

They're going to be so disappointed to see him like this. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He punches the mirror again. 

Winces in pain again.

Washes the blood off his hands again.

"Goddamit Buckley, get your shit together." He mutters to himself.

His own voice sounds so foreign to him, it's gravelly and hoarse; it doesn't even sound like him.

His phone rings again. 

He ignores it again.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Bobby that the reason that he has to be on light duty for at least two weeks now is because he was a fucking idiot who punched his bathroom mirror twice because he couldn't deal with the fact that his ex-girlfriend ghosted him and got a fiancé.

He stares at his bloodied hand as the blood drops down onto the white marble of the sink. How is he going to explain this to anyone?

He should've taken Eddie's offer to drop Chris off with him.

God, Eddie.

How was he supposed to tell him?

As much as people like to think that Buck was an oblivious idiot, he wasn't. He knew he liked Eddie, in a way that Eddie couldn't reciprocate. But Buck was so, selfishly, gone on his best friend.

Sometimes he wished he wasn't so close to him, it would've made it so much more for Buck to ignore his feelings. 

Sometimes he wished he hadn't met Eddie at all, that he should've transferred stations or just shut up after the grenade incident, because then he wouldn't be in his bathroom, crying over a woman that left him and a man that could leave him.

"You're fucking pathetic, get it together Buckley, get it together," He whispers as a new set of tears fall down his face and onto the sink, mixing with the slowly drying blood on it. 

He can't stop the tears. 

"Come on, come one, stop crying," He tells himself, trying to sound like his father, maybe then he would, "Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying."

"Stop fucking crying!" He all but shouts at his reflection. 

It doesn't work.

In fact, he cries harder. 

His nose closes up and his face matches not only his shirt but also the blood on his hands and sink.

He falls to his knees, glass crunching beneath them and he's glad he chose to wear jeans, at least his knees wouldn't be horribly cut. 

His phone rings again.

He ignores it again.

There's knocking at his door, it loud, angry, almost frantic.

He wants to yell at whoever's knocking, tell them to leave him alone because everyone does eventually. But he doesn't say anything, he hopes they leave, think that no one's home.

The knocking continues.

It gets louder each time.

He ignores it.

He gets up, brushing the glass off his knees and cuts his hands a bit more.

"Fuck."

He can't do anything right; can't keep a girlfriend, can't keep his job, can't brush fucking glass without cutting himself.

The knocking stops.

He sighs in relief and turns the tap on again.

He's too caught up in relief provided by the cold water to notice the sound of his door unlocking.

He washes his knuckles, gently this time, not that it makes a difference, it still hurts like a bitch.

"Buck?" 

He freezes. 

"Buck I know you're home, your Jeep is in the garage."

Fuck.

Maybe if he's quiet then Eddie might leave.

"Buck?"

Please leave. Please leave. Please leave.

Footsteps echo as he hears Eddie climb up.

Why can't the universe be on his side for once?

"Buck? You in there?"

He glances at the lock and curses himself. It's unlocked.

There's a knock on the door.

"Buck?"

He bites his lip to keep quiet.

"Evan?"

Another set of tears roll down his face.

Please.

"I'm coming in."

The door opens and Buck stares at Eddie.

He watches as Eddie's face shifts from relief to confusion to shock to anger, all within in seconds.

"What the hell Buck?"

Buck just shrugs in response. 

Eddie doesn't say anything else. 

He walks over to Buck and wipes the tears away.

"God Buck."

Eddie takes his hands and puts his hands under the cold water again. 

Buck hisses in pain again. 

" _Idiota_ ," Eddie chides him, but there's no heat behind in, "Why?"

_Because I'm not good enough._

"I was angry."

Eddie shuts the water off and walks him out of the bathroom. He makes sure that Buck doesn't step on the glass littered on the bathroom floor.

"Sit," He instructs as they reach his bed.

Buck sits, watching as Eddie jogs downstairs.

He stares out at the loft. He hates how big it is, the size only serving to remind him how lonely he is. He thought Ali would've moved in with him.

More tears fall down, and he curses himself again for crying.

Eddie comes back up, a first aid kit in hand and a dishtowel.

He sits next to Buck, their knees brushing as Eddie dabs at the cuts with the damp dishtowel. 

"They're all superficial, so no stitches. You got lucky."

Buck was anything but lucky. If he was lucky, people would've loved him enough to stay. 

Eddie grabs an ointment from the kit and rubs it on his hands. It's cold but Buck welcomes it as it mixes with the warmth emitting from Eddie's hand. He wraps the bandages around Buck's hands.

"I tried punching away my feelings once, and I can tell you, it doesn't work," He laughs, "You end up feeling more hurt."

"When's Chris coming back?"

He's a coward, for all his talk about telling Eddie to talk about his feelings, Buck sure as hell can't talk about his.

"In 2 week, but you already knew that."

He did.

"Buck," Eddie's voice is so gentle, Buck doesn't deserve it, "Talk to me, what happened to make you punch your mirror?" 

He looks down, trying to find the words without crying again.

It doesn't work.

Eddie wipes the tears away again and holds his face.

"What does _Abuela_ think of the camp?"

Eddie gives him a dry look, "Buck."

"What about P-"

"Talk to me, Buck," He interrupts, "Please."

Buck studies Eddie's face, drinking in every inch of his face. His tan skin, coffee eyes, pink lips. He wants to remember this before Eddie, too, leaves.

"I'm tired Eddie, tired of being not good enough," He says finally, "I- I just want someone to stay and say that they love me. I gave everything to Abby and she still left me, I took it slow with Ali and she left me too. Why aren't I good enough Eddie?"

"Oh, Buck," Eddie sighs, brushing his thumb against Buck's cheek, "You're enough for me."

"Eddie don't - don't say things you don't mean," Buck warns.

"Buck," the intensity in Eddie's eyes is something Buck won't ever forget, "You are enough for me. They lost out on an amazing guy, you're perfect Evan."

"Eddie-" He chokes out.

"Evan," Eddie stops him, "I want you to know that I'm never going to leave you, ever. I would be an idiot to do so."

Buck grabs Eddie's face, doing his best to not dislodge his bandages.

"I love you, Evan Buckley, I love every bit of you. The good, the bad, the ugly, every bit."

Buck cries again, sobs coming out instead of words. 

"Can I kiss you?"

Buck can only nod as more tears fall down his face. 

Eddie's lips are soft and taste like the bubblegum chapstick he's seen Eddie wear when he thinks no ones looking. Buck can taste the salty tears on his lips but he doesn't care, not when Eddie's lips are on his, on hand cradling his jaw as the other holds his head in place. 

Buck's lungs are screaming for oxygen but he doesn't pull away, he can't. 

He's grateful when Eddie pulls away.

Eddie leans his forehead against his, their breaths mingling as they pant for air.

"I love you too."

Eddie smiles, and his eye crinkle. 

Maybe, just maybe, being Evan Buckley isn't so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope ya'll enjoyed it!
> 
> [my tumblr !](http://ho1yhell.tumblr.com/)


End file.
